I kept my voice steady.
“Chloe needs another breathing treatment. I can’t cover all of it today. You took the savings, and I need you to help.”
Eric sighed as if I had interrupted something important.
“She has two parents,” I continued.
There was a pause.
Then he said, “You wanted to keep her. You handle it.”
I gripped the steering wheel.
“She’s your daughter.”
“I’m not doing this, Claire.”
“She needs you.”
“Ask somebody else.”
“Eric, please.”
His answer came cold and immediate.
“Ask someone who actually wants to deal with this.”
Then the call ended.
I should have driven home.
Part of me knew that.
But exhaustion can make you cling to strange hopes. I convinced myself that maybe a phone made it too easy for him to be detached. Maybe if he actually saw Chloe, something inside him would finally respond.
So I drove to the address I had for him.
